She's Missing Movie Stream Online Now 123movies Hd-720p 1280p

02 de febrero de 2020 - 23:25

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Country - Ireland

directed by - Alexandra McGuinness

cast - Lucy Fry

Year - 2019

genre - Drama

She 27s missing movie stream real. She's Missing Movie. She 27s missing movie stream married. She 27s missing movie stream movie. I find this uninteresting. She's Missing Movie stream new albums. Cant wait for this movie I was hoping they would make this one. She's Missing Movie stream of consciousness. She's Missing Movie stream.nbcolympics. Hypergamy doesnt care. Guys dont take her back if she cheats on you, once a cheater, always a cheater.

Cast was good, scenery was dry, and it had no substance. I kept waiting for something interesting to happen and when I thought I reached it, I was disappointed. And let's not talk about the ending.
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Quit trying to make this beeyuh famous. so untalented.

I can't waet to st this movie 💞💞💞💞💞💞. Artist: Taylor Swift Album: Lover Released: 23 August, 2019 Label: Republic Records Listen: Spotify / YouTube / Apple Music / TIDAL r/popheads megathread #1 / r/popheads megathread #2 ‘The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die. ” “You will not certainly die, ” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil. ” Genesis 3:2-5 When I think of love, I think of this picture I took of my best friend on her graduation day, in a bright yellow dress (though you dont see much of the dress, only the gold shade of her skin in the sun, and when I say that she is gleaming and brilliant, like some precious metal, I need you to know that I am not exaggerating) lying in green grass, her hair tangled and her eyes darkened as she squints. The look on her face is one of such pure, unrestrained joy that her smile creases from the width of it. My best friend, it should be said, cant stand Taylor Swift, or her music (the separation of these two things is important, and will come up many times in this write up) and would probably be annoyed with me mentioning her in the same sentence as Taylor. (Too bad. To me, Fi, you are the embodiment of love, and I cannot talk about love without talking about you. I have a more complicated relationship with Taylor Swift. I grew up with Taylor. She was a deity among us young, lovesick (or desperately waiting for someone who would make us lovesick) Southern girls, and we did what the devoted do for any deity: we worshipped her. I still remember the first time I heard ‘Our Song (in my middle school gymnasium, in 2007, on the recommendation of a girl Im not friends with any longer) and at the time, I did not understand the concept of ‘having a song, but I knew ‘Our Song was going to be my song. Over the next nine years, loving Taylor Swift came in and out of fashion. My friends and I adored her gowns and cut pictures of her from magazines for our walls and screamed about short skirts and bleachers in the backseats of our parents cars. Then we said she wrote too many songs about her ex boyfriends. We had opinions about her relationship with Harry Styles. (We didnt care about Jake Gyllehaal yet. But, still: hers was the first episode of SNL I ever watched. (I still have her monologue song memorised, partly because my brother and I rewrote it to be about our dog, and we called it the dog-alogue song. Loving her and hating her feels now like it was a fundamental part of our (Southern) girlhood, because when we loved her, it was an act of defiance — we loved her in spite of the hateful words of those who did not, who called her gendered slurs like ‘slut and ‘whore, words that had their claws in us from early ages — and when we hated her, it was an act of a different kind of defiance — we were girls, so we were supposed to love Taylor Swift and her pretty dresses and love songs about the famous men she had dated and we wanted to date too. We were girls, so we were meant to want to be her: tall, thin, blonde, beautiful, heartbroken. (Sometimes, we did. Often times, I still do. Girlhood, as Taylor and I both know, means never being able to win. By the time Taylor Swift started making pop music, two things had happened: everyone I knew now loved Kanye West, and I had learned what intersectional feminism was. Over the last few years, my opinion on Taylor Swift has not wavered: her music has shaped who I am and fostered my understanding of what I find important and beautiful, and I treasure all of it. At the same time, I can no longer love the image of Taylor Swift, or the person who wears that image, in the blind, devotional way I once did. I think this is important to disclose, as it shapes my interpretation and adoration of Lover. Before we move on: think of what love is to you. Keep that thought in your mind. PART ONE: EDEN Lover is not a complex album. In the final minute of it, on a distant-sounding voicemail recording that suggests shes moving out of frame as it fades, Swift lays the albums thesis bare: she ‘wants to be defined by the things she loved, not what she hates, or fears [interestingly, this could be considered the exact opposite of a statement she had made more than a decade prior: in the liner notes of 2008s Fearless, she says, “To me, ‘Fearless is not the absence of fear. It's not being completely unafraid. To me, fearless is having fears. and, accordingly, Fearless is an album almost entirely about what the then-18 year old Swift feared] or is haunted by”. (The text of this voicemail is also the album booklets opening. Lover was never really a guessing game, and its made obvious by the voicemail that Taylor herself (and not the person she sings “youre my lover” to on the title track, though whether she labels them as such as an act of deception or to align them more closely with herself is ambiguous) is the titular lover. But, like all Taylor Swift albums, her seventh album, arriving nearly thirteen years after her debut (for the uninitiated, thirteen is Swifts subversive choice of lucky number) is made richer by its context, and then, it becomes something else entirely. This write up is centred around a thought that did not strike me until I rewatched the opening of the music video for ‘Me. those few seconds when a snake dissolves into a cabal of pastel butterflies, one of the first images of the post- reputation era) and thought extensively (and self-reverentially) about being a girl in the American South in the 2000s: Lover is Taylor Swifts Eden, untouched by the ‘sin of a womans choice (to bite the apple, to defy God, to listen to a snake, to be the snake. Briefly, the story of Eden, for those who may need it: in the Judeo-Christian narrative, Adam and Eve were the first humans, modelled in Gods image — Eve having been created from the rib of Adam in order to serve as his companion. They lived in the lush garden of Eden, a microcosm of the world God created, and had been allowed to eat the fruit of every tree but one: the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. A snake in the garden deceives Eve, convincing her to eat the forbidden fruit. She gives the fruit to Adam and convinced him to eat too, and the pair gain the knowledge of the Tree. As a result, God banishes them from Eden, and in particular, curses Eve and her descendants (childbirth, menstruation, and obedience to her husband) for disobeying him and listening to the snake. (The story of Adam and Eve varies across the Abrahamic religions, this is the Christian tradition — Adam and Eves decision to eat the fruit is know as the fall of man, and created the state of original sin, the foundation of the belief that all humans are sinners. Lover, as both an album and an era, is Eden in the moment just before Eve listened to the snake, when all the players (God, Adam, Eve, the snake, the fruit and the Tree) existed and were perfectly placed to act, but did not yet know what game they were playing. In general, the album and many of the statements made by Swift during promotion of the album, are an attempt at reversion and reconstruction (to keep things simple, lets say now that the public image of Taylor Swift is the Eden she is trying to return to with Lover, as it was what was damaged by her self-referenced fall from grace) but, at the same time, she keeps an eye on the future she already watched play out (the album is littered with parallels and references to reputation that come up suddenly and loudly, like warning sirens. Resultantly, Lover is a transitional album, existing in the space between the self-immolating Taylor Swift that made reputation and the Taylor Swift that the former explicitly killed off; it is an Eden that is aware of the fall and seeks to undo it before it can occur. This might explain, but not excuse, some of the most frequent criticism of the album — that it had large amounts of filler (there are 18 songs on Lover, four of which were released prior to the albums release) and the songwriting was weak. Viewing it through these two parallel lenses, as an album that seeks redemption and in doing so is mostly transitory, lends a hesitance to its moments of bombast and garishness (such as the lead single, ‘Me. which well discuss as a product of Eve-Taylor later on) but the narrative that surrounds Eden is not the only thing that Lover resembles: Lover is, visually and sonically, an album that blooms and, at points, withers. It arrived in a haze of fauna (there were seven palm trees and she was definitely, wink, counting down to something) and pastel tones, with a spring-release lead single and beginning-of-the-end-of-summer album release date, entirely new territory for Swift. The albums aesthetic has been lush and careful; the cover of Lover itself (designed by 24 year old Colombian-American artist Valheria Rocha) is a sunset of pinks and oranges and pale blues, a pink heart painted in glitter surrounding one eye. The rest of the albums imagery has had the same shades, and Swift dresses whimsically and in colours, a stark contrast to the dark gradients that dominated reputations visual messaging. And then, of course, there are the snakes that have been turned into butterflies, their populations bolstered by CGI and back tattoos and emojis. There are other moments of magical realism (talking traffic lights and haunted clubs, the former bearing a certain resemblance another Jack Antonoff line, from Lordes ‘Green Light, “I whisper things / The city sings them back to you”) on the album, interspersed between warbling piano keys and drums that resemble a heartbeat. Swift maintains her appearance as a master of multiple genres, moving from a sugary collaboration with a Disney-esque hue (‘Me. to a ballad with a Dixie Chicks feature (‘Soon Youll Get Better) and the stylish pop that she had perfected on 1989 (‘Cruel Summer. While there are fewer songs that seem purpose-built for experimentation than there were on reputation, there are still some obvious risks: the childrens choir on ‘Its Nice To Have A Friend and ‘Careless Whisper saxophone on ‘False God are standouts in a fairly diverse (bearing in mind that this is, ultimately, still a Taylor Swift album) sonic landscape. The last part of the resemblance Lover bears to Edens garden is a thematic one: literal and figurative growth. Taylor turned 30 on the 13th of December, and the end of her twenties was a key point of focus in both her promotion (for her cover of Elle, in March, she wrote a list of 30 things she had learned before her 30th birthday, the insights ranging from practical to gut-wrenching to cheeky) and critical (and tabloid) contemplation of Lover. Taylor Swift had more or less come of age in the public eye by the time she released Red in 2012, and Lover is an extension of and meditation on her growth, both as an individual and in her relationship with the English actor Joe Alwyn (now her longest linear relationship to date — Alwyn was also, presumably, the subject of several songs on reputation, and while a rare few boyfriends have seemingly been referenced on multiple albums [Joe Jonas, Harry Styles] none have ever monopolised two albums like Alwyn) coveting both senses of the word ‘lover she uses on the album. As was mentioned earlier, many of the first images of the era involved butterflies, which are commonly used to note change through references to the process of metamorphosis, and from such a meticulous artist, this could not have been anything but deliberate. Next: we discuss 2016, both for Taylor Swift and the world as a whole, as the fallout from her recorded phone call with Kanye West shapes Lovers promotion in the same way it shaped reputations lack of the same. PART TWO: THE FALL My favourite song on 2017s reputation was (the ridiculously underrated) ‘Dont Blame Me, where Taylor sings, voice echoing and sultry, “I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy / And baby, for you, I would fall from grace / Just to touch your face / If you walk away / Id beg you on my knees to stay. ” The parallels between Taylor Swift and Eve are not exact, but they do not need to be: both Taylor Swift and Eve listened to ‘snakes (take this only figuratively, who the snake is in Taylors narrative depends on who you are) and initiated their own downfalls as a result. Taylor has, for most of her career, painted herself as an innocent figure; actions are mostly done to her instead of the opposite. (This began to shift around the time of Red, when she first started creating music outside of the country music bubble (with its defined roles for women and men) and began to engage more fully with pop and not the crossover pop she had built her career on. One of her most sonically striking songs, and a strong example of the fact that Taylor Swift is capable of making perfect pop music, ‘Style features her admitting blame for a relationships rockiness (“I said, ‘Ive been there too a few times”) these admissions continue on reputation (despite ironic titles like ‘Dont Blame Me and ‘Look What You Made Me Do) and then is mostly absent from Lover. On Lover, Taylor is mostly the picture of youthful arrogance and innocence (barring, of course, moments of cheek [“He got that boyish look that I like in a man / I am an architect Im drawing up the plans / Its like Im 17 / Nobody understands”] and the entirety of ‘False God, with its latent sexuality) and Lover, both aesthetically and musically, is charged with that combination. However, on Lover, something interesting does happen: a number of songs are about things Taylor did to someone else, or with someone else, rather than what was done to her by them — ‘Paper Rings being a key example. The year of her fall, 2016, was a difficult year for Taylor personally, between the end of her relationship with Calvin Harris and the beginning of a cultural war with her at the centre, and it shattered the careful construction of Taylor Swift as an innocent third party. Its unnecessary to rehash what happened for the thousandth time, but given that Swift did not do press during the reputation era (allowing the album to serve as her immediate reaction) her most clear feelings were expressed during Lovers media tour. Simultaneously, 2016 was also a politically harsh year; in Britain, where Taylor now spends a great deal of time (her boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, is a Londoner, and shes seemingly adopted the country as her own) populism lead to a referendum win for ‘Brexit-idealists that has sent the country into ceaseless turmoil, much of which she would have witnessed as she spent more and more time in the UK. In the US, a president who has now been impeached for abuse of power (and this is before we touch on his history of virulent misogyny, racism, xenophobia, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, and corruption, and as we all, hopefully, know, this is only the tip of the orange iceberg) was elected, and many Americans, myself included, were seized by terror. Taylor didnt comment on the US 2016 election, or its contenders, beyond telling people to vote. She clearly regrets this, as a great deal of Lovers promotional efforts have been related to activism: industry-related (masters ownership and sexism, both of which well touch on in the next section) and plainly political (LGBT+ rights in particular, and shes clearly learned more about the experiences of people of colour. She, and her mother, Andrea, endorsed a Democratic candidate in Tennessee's 2018 mid term, and while he lost, her vocal disgust with the political landscape of the United States has continued. (In November, it was announced that she was the subject of a documentary, and it was later revealed that Netflix will be premiering ‘Taylor Swift: Miss Americana at Sundance, ‘Miss Americana being a reference to ‘Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, the dazzling political allegory at around the midpoint of Lover. The documentary will presumably look at Taylors involvement with the field of American politics, and much remains to be seen about the behind-the-scenes of her decision-making. Lover is, from the, until recently, apolitical Taylor Swift, a political record, a direct response to both her fall (and what she gleaned from it, particularly her relationship with Joe Alwyn, which began, as well, in 2016) and the fall of her country: “American stories / Burning before me / I'm feeling helpless / The damsels are depressed / Boys will be boys, then / Where are the wise men. Darling, I'm scared” Next: on fear, loathing, and femininity. PART THREE: ADAM (OR: GIRLHOOD II) In Billboards retrospective of Taylors albums prior to the release of reputation, Jonathan Bradley described Self-Titled Taylor as a contradiction, “a lovestruck naïf who slices her enemies with precision”, one of my favourite descriptions of her, because it describes what drew me, and many, many others, to her when I was young: there was a pervasive and graceful violence to the way she dispatched her ex-boyfriends that made us root for her, even as her sabre teeth grew dull over time and her hints at misandry took on new forms — red, wet eyes and hands clasped for Red, wine glass in hand, ready to be shattered, for reputation. Whether you believe her advocacy self-serving or encompassing, Taylor Swift has contended with and spoken out against misogyny for much of her career, and began identifying as a feminist in 2014. In many of her Lover -era interviews, she spoke about the creation of her ‘squad (a mostly white, mostly thin, mostly conventionally beautiful — and if you remove Lena Dunham from this group of women [as Taylor did after Lenas breakup with Jack Antonoff] the mostly thin and conventionally beautifuls become all thin and conventionally beautifuls) as a decision born from bullying when she was young, and how the criticism of her feminism as white woman-centric (shorthand: white feminism, as opposed to intersectional feminism, which accounts for race, sexuality, disability, gender, social capital, economic class, and a host of other things) allowed her to learn and develop her understanding of feminism and misogyny further. Originally, this section was created to discuss Lover as a ‘healthier option: it is the first album whose master recording Taylor Swift legally owns, and after six albums with Nashville-based Big Machine Records, her first with her new label, streaming giant and Universal Music Group member Republic Records, making her a colleague-of-sorts of artists like Drake and the Weeknd (and her friend/popheads favourite Lorde. Taylors navigation of her relationship, and subsequent breakdown of that relationship, with Scott Borchetta (the man who signed Taylor when she was 14, as Big Machines first signing, and was part of her development as an artist, as well as a man she considered a friend) hangs over Lover. (My deluxe edition of the album has diary pages referencing him. But Borchetta and Swift (and the catalyst for everything, Scooter Braun) have been discussed at length on this sub, and instead, Id like to talk about female anger: in this era (and to a degree, the reputation era, though then her reaction to what happened to her was manifested as an avoidance of media coverage, anchored by the phrase, “there will be no further explanation, there will just be reputation ”) Taylor Swift was furious. Returning, briefly, to Eden: Eve is a controversial figure in feminist theory (there is some debate as to whether or not it is degrading to refer to her as the first femme fatale, given that the archetype has deeply sexist roots that deny women their agency and sexuality, and given how women have attempted to both destroy and reclaim this archetype, including Swift, on ‘Blank Space) and, in her myth, she chose to disobey a man and was faced with far harsher punishment for it than the man who did the same action as her (in the Christian interpretation, anyway, in the Islamic tradition, Adam and Eve were punished as equals. In the 2010s, mostly white) female rage became more acceptable in the mainstream; the release of Gillian Flynns ‘Gone Girl (as a novel in 2012, and as a David Fincher feature in 2014) was a cultural turning point for the successful depiction of evil women, and Flynn has constructed an empire on the sharpness of her writing and the inherent violence of her novels, writing with a brutality that both conforms to and rejects patriarchal models: in ‘Sharp Objects (a book and HBO show. trigger warning: self harm) the main character carves words, including gendered slurs, into her body, hurting herself with them before anyone else can. One of Taylors mentioned favourite TV shows, Killing Eve, is strong representation of this evil white woman on the outside of acceptability: one of the shows two main characters is Villanelle, a childish, ruthless killer for hire, who tangles an unwitting Eve in her web and is sexually fascinated by her, creating an erotic atmosphere that hovers just over all of Eve and Villanelles shared scenes. (This sinister sexual tension is not a stranger to Taylor, shes flirted with it for years, pre-dating her most explicit references to sex on reputation and then Lover. Lover is not an inherently angry album. Its actually the opposite, purposefully covering very real issues in a sheen of pop gloss (‘You Need To Calm Down is the most glaring example of this, a song that references the LGBT+ community, but trips by attempting to compare Taylors brushes with being hated by the public to homophobia. Her most pointed song, about sexism, and appropriately titled ‘The Man, is watered down to hooks and obvious insights, with twinkling digs at Leonardo DiCaprios refusal to date women (models) over the age of 25, and even throwing in a gendered slur (bitch) shes expressed discomfort with being called (and which made an appearance in her ‘Look What You Made Me Do music video with a volleyed, “Dont call me that! ” that is never responded to) in the past. Taylors anger is most palpable, and palatable, and righteous in her interviews about, and personal statements on, Big Machine Records (and her masters) sale to Scooter Braun. She openly expresses disgust with and hatred for Braun and Borchetta, after what she referred to as years of loathing Braun (particularly his participation in acts of misogyny and assorted pettiness against her) privately. For many (even, I think, most, if not all) women, privately hating a man for things they have done to you, but which you cant speak about if you want to keep your job, or your friends, or your family, is an achingly common feeling. The fear, and the sadness, and most of all, the rage, palpable in Taylors statements about her politics, both personal (the sale of her masters) and public (the general political landscape of the United States) are painfully familiar. Its difficult not to think about how the fate of her master recordings must have hung over her as she made Lover, and regardless of whether it is done for a self-serving purpose, Swifts push for reform of industry practice regarding masters ownership is important, bringing an occasionally-cared-about issue back into the mainstream. Next: having covered a great deal of Lovers context, we finally discuss the music itself. PART FOUR: EVE Lover is built on a foundation comprised of three themes: religion, marriage, and youth (or nostalgia, whichever you find more fitting a description of what Taylor is singing about. Every motif that crops up with regularity on the album (alcohol, sex and sexuality, her lover) can be categorised under one (or two, in the case of wine, which is both a religious symbol and a symbol of adulthood, and sexuality, which is related to adulthood and marriage) of these themes. I said in my initial thoughts on Lover that this is a redemption album. Ive figured out how to word it more concisely since then, so what I mean to say is that the most central theme of Lover is not, in actuality, love, it is redemption: as I said in August, and have not figured out how to say any differently in the time since) what is love (and a lover) if not the embodiment of redemption? To be loved despite what you have done — is that not the peak of redemption? Religion / Religious Dichotomies ‘Cruel Summer Cruel Summer has cemented itself as a sub (and fan) favourite, sparkling pop with an undercurrent of danger. Opening with the phrase “fever dream high”, its some of the sharpest writing on the album (invoking past Taylor Swift albums with imagery like Taylor in the glow of a vending machine, a spiritual successor to the fridge light she danced in on Red) and has moments of pure ear candy (the screamed “I love you, aint that the worst thing you ever heard? ”, for one. Thematically, its an extension of reputation single ‘Delicate, about a fragile, secret relationship, and Taylor makes extensive use of dichotomies in the songs lyrics, angels and devils in particular, that lend themselves to a feeling of sinfulness and create a vaguely sexual charge to the song. The title, too, showcases another dichotomy: summer is typically regarded, and portrayed, as something sweet. Taylor calls it cruel, and accuses it of being a knife (and not merely knife- like, it is a knife) that cuts her to the bone, singing about both her relationship and the season as violent. (“If I bleed youll be the last to know” is a damning line, regardless of how you interpret it, but paired with the first verses “Bleed slow”, the song has an unmistakably gory tinge to it. ‘The Man A meditation on the dichotomy of men and women, The Man is, in essence, a breakdown of the things Taylor has done during her career and in her personal life that would be regarded differently if she was a man. (The title is a double entendre, referring to both being ‘the man, as she sings about in the chorus, and to The Man, the patriarchal authority. Its an unsubtle, bouncing takedown, and Swift rightfully points out that shes been subjected to extensive criticism for things that famous men, Leonardo DiCaprio being named and shamed, get away with in the eyes of the general public. I think the most concise summary of The Man comes from Taylors testimony at her 2017 sexual assault trial, in response to having been called cold (a descriptive term usually reserved for women who arent as warm as theyre expected to be) “I have an uncanny ability to solicit all kinds of new criticism. ” ‘The Archer Lovers pre release promotional single was mostly lost in the discussion of the rest of the album, but its a stunning ballad with an unanswerable question at its heart: who could ever leave a woman like Taylor Swift? Who could stay? The song is deeply personal, quietly delving into her insecurity (shes had issues with disordered eating, and has spoken about her issues with her body image and weight in the Lover era) and being torn apart by the expectations (the repeated line about being ready for combat, but not wanting it, but maybe wanting it, that eventually just becomes “Im ready for combat”, is not an unfamiliar feeling to me and my Southern girlhood. The dichotomy in The Archer that made me categorise it here is mostly contained in its title and chorus (shes been both the archer and the prey, she sings in the chorus, over a sparse instrumental with a soft drum that acts like a heartbeat) but it also touches on the theme of youth (“I never grow up / Its getting so old”, and a reference to the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme that is somehow brutal) and has one of the albums references to ghosts. The Archer is agonising (the line, “All of my heroes die all alone”, while a Jack Antonoff sentiment hes vocalised before, is a gut punch when you listen to it at the wrong moment in your life) and agonised, and it is absolutely crucial to Lovers narrative. ‘Cornelia Street Cornelia Street is easily one of Lovers best songs, with its echoing keys and backseat drinking. Referencing the house in New York Taylor lived in when she met Joe Alwyn, the sentiment of the song is one so strong it should be added to the pantheon of horrible, dangerous feelings Taylor managed to put into words: if her relationship with (presumably) Alwyn were to end, she sings, shell “never walk Cornelia Street again”, unable to go down it without thinking about him or their relationship. The beauty of Cornelia Street is in its lack of subtlety; the chorus takes place almost entirely in Taylors higher register, and while not screaming, like ‘Cruel Summer, it paints her love as something terrifying, something mystifiying. The song aches so much that the hypothetical (“if I ever lose you”) doesnt make sense until the “again” is added, an intriguing hint that, at one point, their relationship nearly broke down. ‘Soon Youll Get Better (featuring the Dixie Chicks) Soon Youll Get Better hurts. It hurts, and it hurts, and it hurts, and its brought me to tears and onto my knees. A ballad in honour of Taylors mother, Andrea, who loves the Dixie Chicks (it should be noted that the Dixie Chicks rise and fall in country music, due to speaking out against George W Bush in 2003, was tinged with the sexism Taylor contends with on Lover, and was an act of political activism in a hostile word) and has breast cancer, the sentiments in Soon Youll Get Better are deeply personal, and their expression is painful: Taylor explicitly makes reference to Jesus for the first time in years (shes had a relatively a-religious career, considering her country roots) saying she prays to him because of desperation. She canonises her mothers “holy orange bottles” (for those of you not from the US, here, most of our prescription drugs come in plastic orange bottles) and “paints the kitchen neon”, because Andrea has to get better. Theres a danger in talking about the illness of someone you are close to, because you dont want to make things about you. (I am often the sick person, having discovered that I have a life-threatening illness that attempts to kill me every so often when I was a pre teen, and I have experienced people talking about my illness in a way that makes me feel as though it, and I, am a burden to them. But Taylors adoration of her mother is plain, and she explicitly says, “I hate to make this all about me”, managing to walk the narrow line between expressing her feelings about her mothers cancer and harming her mother by expressing them. Its difficult to imagine Andrea would be angry with such a tender song, especially because Taylor admits the impossibility of her understanding what her mother is going through — but, she sings, shell never stop trying to. ‘False God Immediately following the agony of ‘Soon Youll Get Better is the ecstasy of False God, a song that can only be described as ‘sonically chill with a George Michael-invoking saxophone in its veins and an extended religious metaphor for oral sex. (The altar is Taylor Swifts hips, and an altar is where kneeling takes place. False God is patently hedonistic and even more patently sacrilegious, with Taylor admitting that, regardless of whether or not her and her lovers relationship is a false god (that new religion she mentions in ‘Cornelia Street) theyll still worship. It comes in sharp contrast to Soon Youll Get Better not only sonically, but in sentiment, but their pairing makes a certain kind of sense: Swift quietly shows the spectrum of human interaction with religion, from desperate prayers for healing to ‘oh my god! s when their religion meets her altar. Marriage ‘Lover Lover being about marriage is obvious, Taylor creates a set of vows in the middle of the song, and sings about a beautiful domesticity, referring to her boyfriend (or fiancé, or husband) with pet names (including the titular ‘lover. Its a sweet little song, and its obvious why Taylor loves it so, joy plain on her face during every performance of it to date. Its a purpose-built wedding song, too, and itll be unsurprising if we learn her relationship with Alwyn has progressed. ‘Paper Rings Paper Rings is earnest and honest, its chorus stating explicitly that shed marry Alwyn. (With paper rings, despite her noted love of sparkle and shine. Its a bouncy, fun little song, perfect for singing along to, and touches on more of the domesticity in ‘Lover with a wink, referencing dirty dreams to match the dirty jokes of her lover. Youth / Nostalgia ‘I Forgot That You Existed I Forgot That You Existed is a paradox, because by virtue of its existence, Taylor hasnt exactly forgotten their existence (‘they being speculated to be anyone from Kanye West to Calvin Harris to Karlie Kloss. Its the opener of Lover, and in the second verse, she makes explicit reference to her previous album: “Got out some popcorn / As soon as my rep started going down, down, down”. She says that the person at the centre of the song taught her some lessons, but shes since forgotten them, and the track is ultimately a misstep, with her cackling and spoken “So. yeah” taking on a forced tone given the songs paradoxical nature. But, in Taylor Swift fashion, it is catchy. ‘I Think He Knows A song that, like much of Taylors pre- reputation discography, hints at the act of sex rather than couching it in obvious metaphors, has a moment of self awareness that is stunning, previously referenced in this write up: “Its like Im 17 / Nobody understands”. The year she turned seventeen, Swift released her debut, self-titled album: she was still a teenager, and the nature of a teenager is to be misunderstood, but its difficult to imagine that no one would understand her, especially since she has, from the beginning, laid herself, and her emotions, bare in her music. ‘Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince Miss Americana is, at points, an allegory, comparing American politics (and possibly a dash of British politics too) to a high school movie set, with more explicit references to Taylors teenage years. Its a pretty song, one of the albums highlights, and there are moments of it that are sonically beautiful, like her “darling Im scared” and “voted most likely to run away with you”. Its not her best metaphor, but it is easy to understand how Taylor Swift would see America in 2019 as a high school that alienated her (and millions of others. ‘ME! featuring Brandon Urie) Me! has been discussed at length as a misstep, and it really, really is, the worst of Taylors terrible lead single choices, but what is striking about Me! is how blatant it is: when she wanted to shed her snakeskin, left over from reputation, she really shed that skin. Me! is aimed at another demographic entirely (“Hey kids! Spelling is fun! ”, which was removed from the album, but we all know is there) and sounds like it should be in a Disney movie. Its a strong departure from reputation, but, like that album, gives the impression that it was something Taylor had to get out of her system, for better or worse. ‘Its Nice To Have A Friend Its Nice To Have A Friend is my song of the year, and it is here because it is the most important song on Lover, at the centre of all three themes. The writer Donna Tartt said, in ‘The Secret History, that “Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it”, and Its Nice To Have A Friend is, somehow, with the plucked notes and the childrens choir at the backbone of it, terrifying. I said, when I first wrote about its importance, that it feels as devastating as one of my favourite Taylor songs of all time, ‘Treacherous, if in a very different way, and I think the ability to make such a sweet sentiment (a love that extends from childhood into infinity) feel terrifying and ominous is rare and precious. I also said that I believe it ties the album together: there's the idea of redemption (being with her lover from the beginning, so she never had to suffer anything else) of youth/childhood/nostalgia (the first two verses) a wedding, the minutiae of love (details like a shared glove and rice that looks like snow, tying back to the first verse) and religious imagery (the church wedding, the concept of fate. Its been months, and I still dont know how to talk about this track as anything but a masterpiece that I do not know how to describe except as the embodiment of beauty and, to a degree, terror. Which is interesting, because I know many people hate it (sometimes with a passion) and its in the bottom half of the subs ranking of Lover. This post will be continued in the comments, as it is past the character limit. And: please enjoy this meme I made when I saw Raykel also quoted the Bible in her write up.

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My cousin, Annie, was, throughout my childhood, a bully. She acted like a perfect angel around adults, but did a 180 as soon as their backs were turned. She stole other kids' toys, broke things and blamed others, made fun of others (particularly me) used blackmail to make other kids do what she wanted, and was just a little brat in general. I usually tried to just ignore her, but she took offense to this and just harassed me more. Luckily, I only had to put up with her once a year. My parents and I lived in Richmond, while Annie and her mom lived in L. A. Every October, we would all get together to spend a week in a cabin (actually a two story house with full heat and electricity) in a forest in Montana. Even if Annie hadn't been there, I still wouldn't have liked going. That forest was dark, deep, and had about it. But my parents and aunt liked going so much that, until I was nine, I had to go every fall. This is the story of the last trip my family ever took to that cabin. I first got the feeling that something wasn't right when I saw that the old farmer was sitting on the porch. The old farmer was the one we rented the cabin from every year, but he usually didn't show up until the last day of the trip to collect the renter's fee. Mom stayed in the car with me while Dad went to speak with him. I watched them as they talked. Dad looked unshaken, even a little amused. The old farmer, however, was dead seriousness. Looking back, I think he was scared. Dad was chuckling a little when he came back. "I think that farmer is either getting old or loves a good ghost story. According to him, we need to cover all of the windows and turn out all of the lights before ten tonight, or else the Witcher will come. He let out a fake maniacal laugh, followed by his real laugh. Mom laughed, too. I smiled, but I was uneasy. I was still at the age when ghost stories seemed less fantastical and more factual. Before I could think any more on it, my Aunt Tara and Annie pulled up. My mom got out and ran to hug her sister, while Dad roped Annie and I into putting away suitcases and groceries. The rest of the evening was like the countless others we'd spent at that house. We ate a big dinner to celebrate being together, played two or three rounds of Go Fish, and then watched Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (again. During that time, Annie kicked me under the dinner table twice (and blaming me for kicking her) stole three of my cards when I went for a drink (and played it off as a joke) and made me get snacks for her during my favorite parts of the movie, asking sweetly out loud (when the adults were in earshot) and threatening me with blackmail under her breath. When the movie ended, it was nine fifty-five. Dad, despite laughing at the farmer's warning, got up and started closing the blinds. My aunt asked what he was doing, and he repeated the farmer's instructions, grinning all the while. Mom spoke up. "If you don't believe him, then why are you covering the windows. He is still technically the landlord. Do you want to tell people you got evicted by a crazy farmer. Dad laughed again, and finished covering the windows. Then, per the old farmer's warning, turned out all of the lights. I trudged up to my room, and considered myself lucky that Annie hadn't been as bad as usual this year. Before I climbed into bed, I peaked behind the blinds and looked at the forest. I had never heard of anything called "the Witcher" but there was no doubt in my mind that such a thing could exist in that forest. I shivered, and climbed into bed. I was just about to fall asleep when a cold finger poked my nose. I gasped and shot up. It was Annie. She was grinning, with a mischievous look in her eye. She pointed at the wall. She had written, in my favorite purple glitter pen, the word "S. on the wall. We both knew that my parents would blame me for it, and how much trouble I'd get in. "I'll help you wash it off if you come hiking with me. I stared at her like she was insane. It was freezing outside, and she wasn't a nature girl. I knew that she was planning something bad, but I had no idea what. I did know, however, that there was no way I could get out of it. If I said no, then she'd take my favorite pen and write more things on the walls, all of which would be blamed on me. I felt sick, but I agreed. I threw my coat on over my pajamas, and put on my dad's boots. Annie had wrapped herself in her aunt's coat, and had loaded the pockets with granola bars, bottled water, a flashlight, and two jump ropes. We crept out the front door, with Annie shutting it so it wouldn't make a sound. Then we set out. It had to have been at least forty degrees out, maybe colder. I didn't know where we were going, but Annie seemed to know the way. Her flashlight cut through the dark like a knife, and she hummed a little as we walked. We took a break after a few minutes. In a rare moment of kindness, my cousin shared her granola bars and water with me. Despite everything that happened that night, I still like to think about that moment. I think it's the only good memory I have of my cousin. We walked for at least another hour. Finally, we came to a huge tree. It had to have had a circumference of five feet or more, and only heaven knows how tall it was. Annie walked up to it, placed her back onto the trunk, and looked up. "Whoa. Sarah, come try this. Maybe it was the fact that she shared her snack, maybe it was because I knew she'd talk me into it, or maybe it was because I knew she'd try something like this and wanted to get it over with. So I went over to the tree, placed my back onto the trunk, and looked up. All I could see were branches, and I was about to ask what was so interesting about it when she tied me to the tree. I'd completely forgotten about the jump ropes. She had planned to tie me up and leave me in the woods. She laughed at me as I struggled. I still don't know why she did it. Maybe, in her mind, this was the funniest joke in history. I started yelling for help, even though I knew no one could hear me. She smiled at me for a minute, then started to walk back, her flashlight guiding her. "You monster. I screamed at her, called her every name I could think of. When I wasn't doing that I was struggling. I was cold, so cold, and the rope wouldn't budge. I was panicking. Was I going to die? Had Annie wanted me to die? Why did she do that? Finally, in frustration and fear, I let out a wail. It couldn't have been a minute later when I heard a twig snap. Then another. And another. They had to be footsteps. For one moment, I thought that Annie was coming back, that it was all just a joke. But then I listened closer. Those steps were way too heavy to be Annie's. could anyone possibly take such wide steps. I started struggling again, hoping that the ropes were thin enough to snap if I pulled hard enough. But I stopped struggling, I stopped breathing, when I saw it. I didn't see it clearly. There wasn't enough light, and it stood to closely to the trees. But it was tall, taller than any adult I'd ever met. It was black, blacker than the night. It stank like rotted meat. It had two glowing, orange eyes. It was shaped like a rubber doll that had been stretched completely thin. I knew, without even thinking, that this was the Witcher. And it took another step toward me. I struggled against the rope, tears streaming down my face, screaming like a banshee. Its arm pinned me to the tree, stopping my struggling. The other hand took my chin and forced me to look at it. I looked into those bright orange eyes. And I was calm. Just like that. I was still cold, and I was still afraid. But I was calm. I watched as its blade-like claw cut through the ropes, freeing me. It took me into its arms, lifting me into the air. Then, the Witcher began to carry e through the woods. I was still scared. What was it going to do to me? Eat me? I tried to struggle. It looked at me, almost quizzically, then lifted one long, thin arm, and pointed. I looked, and saw Annie's flashlight. It was laying on the ground at an awkward angle, as if she'd dropped it. And it was still on. The Witcher is a monster. But real monsters only consume real monsters. His voice was utterly terrifying. I fainted; my mind simply couldn't take anymore. I woke up on the porch of the house. It might sound crazy, but at first, I couldn't remember anything that happened after Annie and I stopped at the tree. I decided that Annie had somehow tricked me into falling asleep on the porch, and went in. The warmth of the house washed over me, and reminded me of how tired I was. I ditched my dad's boots and walked up to my room, where I was treated to the sight of the S. on the wall. Not wanting to deal with it then, I moved my dresser to cover it up, and practically belly flopped onto the bed. I woke up to police sirens, and my parents telling me that Annie was missing. The police searched the forest all morning. They found a gruesome sight. When they told me she was dead, the events of the night before came rushing back, and I bawled. My parents comforted me, thinking I was crying because of Annie. After the funeral, people kept telling me that I'd taken my cousin's murder so well, and that they knew that her murderer would be found. So many years later, and they are still looking for Annie's murderer. Why am I telling this story now? Because yesterday was the twentieth anniversary of her murder. Somehow, a picture of the crime scene was leaked to the media. The body had, at that point, been removed. What the picture showed was the tree that Annie had tied me to that night. Written across the trunk, in Annie's blood, was a single word. WITCHER.

She's Missing Movie streaming sur internet. Hi y'all, I'm back and finally able to say how I feel about this movie. I finished this movie over an hour ago, it was. is) one of the best movies I've ever seen. Some parts in it needed something more. For me, whether Jane forgives me or not, wants to be rescued or not, I would save her, any way I can. To make sure that "family" doesnt go after or bother Jane ever again, I would finish them off in a mixed styles of the endings from apocalypse now and taxi driver. But still, it was a great movie. I give it 8/10.
The ending of the movie, I'm only slightly conflicted when Jane and Heidi are reunited.
I do not care what anyone else says, but I mostly and truly believe w/ all my heart & soul that Jane realizes what she did was wrong and is slowly recovering from it. One step at a time. Later, Jane finds Heidi in the new hotel, to be reunited/together again and beg for forgiveness. then face their problems, their dreams again and their futures, head on together.
as for eiza gonzalez, it was one of the greatest performances she ever did (so far. SHE DESERVES AN OSCAR. For her performance as Jane and another statue for her performance in another movie she did. "Paradise hills" she played as amarna.
even though she did small roles recently, I love all her characters and all the hard work she put into them. But she's not being fully recognized enough for her talents/gifts. And she should be. Because what I've seen in her t.v. show (from dusk till dawn: the series) and in both paradise hills and she's missing, she deserves an Emmy and couple of oscars. Because she deserves them 1,000. br> I give the movie 8/10, but I give eiza Gonzalez 1000/1000.

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She 27s missing movie stream lyrics. [Aftermath] Vark glanced at the human standing beside him, handing out drinks with that polite little smile of his. Today they were crowded. Humans and nonhumans alike mingled in the barely-gravity, drifting between tables and leaning over the side of the bar, chattering. Constant babble hung in the background, a white noise of content conversation that was the mark of any reputable establishment. Pinkwood tables and chairs (each of which had cost a small fortune. hung from the ceiling and had been attached to the walls. The ones still on the ground were tied there. This prevented the denser patrons from bumping into them and sending them flying, a catastrophe that would doubtless have injured the lighter customers. “Can you hand me that? ” Marshal nodded at the bottle of cleaning fluid behind Vark, who handed it to him. The assortment of creatures on the bar stools watched with interest as Marshal poured the contents into the glass attached to where his hand should have been. Marshal was not the same. When Vigilant showed up to the station they had annihilated all nine of the brood ships in a shower of missiles and explosions. The crew of Never Gonna had never cheered louder than Vark had ever seen them cheer before, and he remembered watching Marshal race away to thank them, Syegone trailing behind him on all fours. Vigilants sensors had picked up the last of the hunters still on the station, destroying them in the ruthless bombardment that followed… …or at least most of them. But the hunters had seen the gravity sword. Had seen the human with eyes like fire wielding it, killing scores of their fellow monsters, even the betas. Had determined that this was the one among them they must not fail to kill. An ambush of their best brood fighters equipped with knives and flamethrowers and cloaking devices had lain in wait by the cutting humans ship. Had waited until he and the fur-face had entered it… Marshal was not the same. He was by all appearances dead and by large devoured by the time the rest of the deathworlders arrived, killing the hunters who had stalked him in a blind rage that still gave Vark nightmares. But even that was a pleasant memory compared to the sight that greeted them. His friend was not dead…but doubtless hed wished he had been. His sword hand, the whole arm in fact had been ripped form the socket, presumably to be eaten as it was nowhere to be found. Both his legs had met a similar fate; gashes and hideous burns covered the rest of him though his face remained oddly intact. A blessing: if theyd needed to identify him it would have been impossible. Syegone had fared little better. The gaoin had obviously taken the brute of the damage done by the flamethrowers; the entire right side of his body was scorched, furless and bloody. His ear had been torn to shreds, the foot on that side ending at the ankle in obvious teeth marks. The pair of them were a terrible sight indeed and had been rushed to Vigilants medical wing the second they were stable enough to be moved there. Theirs became one of the few civilian cases okayed for emergency Crude-D treatment; Emily had confronted the general on it herself. And miraculously…both had survived. But Marshal was different. “Here. ” The humans voice jerked Vark out of the memory. He was staring at him, a knowing look in eyes that should never have been so serious. He held out the now emptied bottle. Marshal was still friendly. He still joked and smiled and was happy to participate in a friendly game of truth or dare whenever his friends came to the station to visit him. But the puns were less frequent, the smiles less lasting. Every now and then Vark caught him staring off at nothing, quiet and intent as though expecting an ambush to materialize in front of him…again. Sometimes the laughter seemed forced. Whether it was caused by the loss of his brother or the physical trauma hed suffered, the change was obvious. Marshal was quieter. He was calmer. Marshal was serious. Vark did not like it. None of the others did either; it was a long time before they got that first laugh out of him. It was a day after the ‘grand opening of the Trudar-Bar, the sole reward any of them claimed for their efforts in saving the station. Grateful creatures swarmed them moments after the battle, intent on repaying the impossible debt they owed. Dominion news crews and scores of human journalists and had been surprisingly swift to pick up the story. “Im here because I wanted to be. Because I wanted to help. ” Ariel told the cameras. Shelby voiced her agreement. “I did what what was necessary. ” Marcus told them. The big deathworlders team had scored the most hits on the hunter boarding craft, and not a single injury between them. Jones stood behind him, smiling with those crooked teeth of his. The blond hair that hadnt been singed in the explosion on Precision and Skill had been scorched in fiasco with the flamethrower. A movie-perfect scar dragged in a straight line over his left eye and he flexed for the cameras, grinning and showing off the burns and scratches along his muscled arms for them. An image that graced many a magazine cover for weeks to come. “Mate, this is a fight that affects all of us, human and nonhuman alike. Evil is real and alive and its our job, all of us, to fight it wherever it strikes. The bastards had it coming to ‘em. ” The cameras ate it up. Moses opened his mouth to make a joke but halted at a pointed look from Syegone. He sighed. “…and I am a callous fool with no regard for oth-” “No. ” Syegone interrupted him, the cameras swiveling to catch what he said. “…You are one of the bravest humans…one of the bravest people I have ever had the pleasure to know. ” The gaoins ears did not move; he meant what he said. His injuries were less mutilating than Marshals had been, but far less flattering than Jones. Interestingly, hed refused the offer to have a corti surgeon reverse the disfiguration. Syegone wore his scars with pride. He would have fought to keep them, especially after the Great Father himself had recognized him for their cause. “and it was an honor to fight alongside you. ” He finished, chittering. Moses opened his mouth and closed it, stunned, the whole thing caught on video. At last he settled for “You know, youre not so bad yourself fuzzy. ” Before shaking his head and directing the army of microphones to Marshal. “Im here because a friend needed me. ” Marshal told them, his eyes resting on Vark. Hed still been bandaged and sore for that initial interview, temporary prosthetics attached to his side and his hips. Yet hed insisted on being there. He paused, grimacing. The image of it circulated news networks everywhere, the embodiment of sacrifice and determination. “Thats what do you when people need you. You go. You fight even when youre afraid, because if you wont fight for them they sure as hell wont be there for you when you need it. Friends help each other, even if…” another grimace. His arm (or lack thereof) was obviously bothering him. “…even if they dont ask for it. And you sure as hell go when they do. ” Another one of his lessons Vark took to heart. Marshal elected to stay on the station despite the groups protests. Marshal was not persuaded. He asked for and was immediately given a space to set up the business idea hed come up with in the medical wing of Vigilant, while hed lain awake, his body unable to sleep after the astonishing amount of trauma it had endured. The laughter was gone, but a spark of the original shenanigans that bounced around in that curly haired head of his remained. Hed called his creation the Trudar-Bar (and yes, the gaoin captain eventually found out about it. The day after it opened the eight of them gathered inside, joking and nudging each other while all but Vark and Syegone downed generous amounts of svar. Marshals prosthetics had been upgraded. More than upgraded. Hed used the rest of the viribus and a team of the Gaps lab technicians to craft more… sturdy, and quite customizable prosthetics. Gravity suspenders were installed in them. Hed left them a polished silver (because reasons, all of which were articulated as “Dude! This is sick! ”) and had purposely drawn lines on them in the appearance of a generous amount of muscles. The hand prosthetic could be replaced by any number of items Marshall had spent hours creating and assembling. Among these included drinking containers, an ‘all-purpose” knife, a hook (another human reference Marshal had to explain) a cardholder, a ping pong paddle and of course a fully functioning, mechanical hand made with the viribus metal. At that moment the bottle had been equipped, and Marshal was downing svar from it. “Luke Skywalker eat your heart out! ” Hed exclaimed, holding out his hand-bottle. A phrase that alarmed Vark as much as it confused him. “Shame we couldnt do anything about your face. ” Moses had snickered, the face in question frozen in shock. And the laughter returned. Vark made it his mission to extract as much of that laughter as he could, even though Marshal had never asked it of him. He really had taken the humans words to heart. His friend needed him. Trudar-Bar became wildly popular. Humans and nonhumans alike flocked to visit the hero of station 774-3. Word spread of a rrrrtktktkp'ch who made puns of all things, and humans crowded the bar as much to get a taste of the increasingly popular svar as they did to hear the disastrous jokes. Then they had the genius idea of mucking with the gravity. People loved it. Even the nonhumans enjoyed drifting up to their tables and bouncing about the room as they ordered their drinks. Strict warnings and rules were implemented to keep the human customers from getting too carried away with it. And as it turned out, Varkss tripled number of limbs made him an excellent bartender… …and specific kinds of cleaning fluid became very expensive. The rest of the group did not stick around. Though they kept in touch and planned the occasional rendezvous at Marshals bar, the five of them disbanded shortly after the battle. Marshal was not the only human it had changed. The Never Gonna Let You Down was not retired. That would have ruined the joke. Instead the other ships each spared a member to man it, who aside from a crew formed an immediate friendship. Among them were Niviri and her friend, the pilot of I Saw That. Shelby eventually joined the crew of Vigilant as a weapons deployer, after working her way through a ridiculously challenging officers program. The battle had unearthed a side to her she had never known existed. Her and Emily became instant friends, the latter going on to become the maid of honor at Moses wedding. Syegone did not enjoy the suit they more or less forced on him. In addition to the scarring, the gaoin had become rather distinguished by the sleeved outfits he wore, forsaking the overalls most gaoins preferred. Hed been wearing sleeves ever since Moses called him a hillbilly, ditching the overalls the second hed seen the resemblance. Ariel abandoned the shenanigans altogether and immigrated to Cimbrean. The growing community there was desperate for anyone with a bachelors in a STEM field, and Ariel had obtained her masters in chemistry on the first go around, a bachelors in general sciences on the second. She was welcomed as the overhead sciences professor at the budding college in Folctha, and settled down with a family of her own, all of whom loved visiting Vark and Marshal and the rest at the bar. Marcus and Marshals remaining brother returned to the Gap, experimenting with the arenacraft and working together to perfect the shielding technology that might have saved their friends lives. Moses went in a different direction entirely. Nirvaq was missing. Quite a few people turned up missing once the dust from the battle had settled, and it seemed likely she had been eaten before the humans arrived to rescue the station. Marshal blamed himself, just as he did with his brother though Vark argued and assured him there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. The construction of The Reparation was already underway before the cortis disappearance was discovered. In what came as a surprise to everyone, it was Moses who took over its ownership. Hed had enough of “this damn station to last me a lifetime. ” Moses was leaving, off to explore the galaxy. Hed been bankrolled by the Gap to bring back anything even remotely marketable. …and Syegone had gone with him. Another surprise. The gaoin did not fancy returning to the mining vessel Digging Claws. The humans had corrupted him; now he longed for more, though he could not yet articulate it. Moses had grinned when hed asked him and ruffled him between the ears… …and somehow had lived to tell the tale. Finally, Marshal stayed right where he was, serving the steady stream of visitors to the station alongside his six-armed friend. They were always busy, especially during the days the humans referred to as ‘the weekend. They both spent so much time there that eventually they had to close early on Tuesdays and Thursdays (more human arbitrations) just so they could go and work out the muscles that never saw much strain in the lowered gravity of the bar. They did this every time in the strange patterns Vark finally learned were called ‘Hawaiian. The bar was far larger than any of the customers could see; Marshal had bought the four spaces behind it as well. He turned them into what he dubbed “a big ass bomb shelter”, a massive area the stations occupants could retreat to if they were ever attacked again. The generous gesture laid to rest any complaints the stations officers or the civilians had about the humans presence there. They had banned human parties similar to the one that caused the explosion on Precision And Skill from taking place on the station, siting them as a safety concern. The humans responded by permanently docking a ship they named Stupid Laws Have Stupid Loopholes at the station, hovering it an inch away from the stations docking port whenever they felt like resuming their usual shenanigans. Filling four cups at a time and cleaning an empty container with the other two arms, Vark turned to Marshal, who was busy with his own customers. “What do you call a star thats gone supernova? ” He asked. His friend bared his teeth and glanced over at him “s a tough one. What? ” Vark looked around at his surroundings, the humans at the counter listening in over their own conversations, the swell of music and the happy sound of alien chatter depositing a warm, happy feeling deep within him. Marshal grinned. “Super no-thanks! ” The humans who had heard groaned good-naturedly and bared their teeth at him, a gesture hed long grown used to by now. A few of them clapped and rolled their eyes. Marshal held up a hand to them and turned to Vark. “What do you call this? ” He asked, spreading his hands to gesture to the scene around them. Vark didnt understand and so answered with a question of his own. “What? ” “The end. ” CLICK THIS Previous All Shenanigans {Note: I had SO much fun writing this. As always leave a comment it you liked the story. Also check this out, you don't even have to donate anything just enjoy the lols. Catch you next time!.

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